The Other Side of the Mirror book 6
by A Amelia Black
Summary: They always say there are two sides to every story. Well, we all know Harry Potter's side but what about one that shows a story very different from what you knew. The side of Draco Malfoy.
1. Plans

_**The Other Side of the Mirror**_

**Year Six**

**Chapter One**

**-Plans-**

Draco sat by his window, looking out over the grounds of the manor. He scratched his left arm through the sleeve of his black robe. A curtain of white-blond hair fell across his eyes but he paid it no heed. He had other things on his mind.

_Sixteen years old. Almost a legal wizard_,he thought. _Though I have more on my plate than most sixteen year olds, I'd think. My father…if only my father was here, but he made a mistake. He made the Dark Lord angry. _ His fist clenched as he thought of Potter. _Stupid Saint Potter. Can do no wrong. It's his fault that my father is in Azkaban! Just you wait, Potter, you'll get what's coming to you. Sooner than you realize. You and Dumbledore both._

Draco closed his eyes, remembering back to that fateful night.

"_Draco, hurry, we mustn't be late," Narcissa urged her son, guiding him to the hidden spot where the Dark Lord awaited. Draco knew his mother was scared, more for his sake than her own. He wasn't exactly cheerful about where he was going either, but he knew what he had to do._

"_Yes, Mother." Draco had become more distant in the weeks since the school year had ended. He just wasn't in the mood to put up with people, nor to be reminded of what had happened._

_Narcissa led Draco to the edge of a clearing and then let go. She turned him to face her quickly, her eyes boring into his. "Please, Draco. For your sake. Be brave."_

_He put a determined look on his face and took a deep breath, trying to appear stronger than he felt. "I will be fine, Mother. The Dark Lord gave me his orders and I intend to carry them out. Don't worry so much."_

_Narcissa seemed to hesitate, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she merely nodded, squeezing his shoulder once before letting him walk away._

_Draco kept his gaze to the ground, but he knew what the clearing looked like. It was small, with dark trees bounding the grassy area. In the center was a short, stone pedestal that served as a place to stand as well as an eerie throne. Voldemort stood there, garbed in his rich black robes, his snake-like face glittering in the darkness. Surrounding him were his Death Eaters, robed in black with chilling white masks. Torches flickered from various stands, casting shadows across the ground._

_Draco fell to his knees before the Dark Lord, keeping his head bowed. "I have returned, my Lord." He swallowed, closing his eyes, trying to keep his heart calm. _I can do this. I will. I will avenge my father and at the same time, rise to the ranks of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters. I will be better than my father and I will prove to everyone that I am a true Malfoy.

"_Yes you have," hissed the chilling voice of the Dark Lord. "Draco, you have been given an important task. Do you believe yourself capable of carrying it out?"_

"_Yes, my Lord."_

"_Then rise and show me your loyalty."_

_Draco swallowed and stood, keeping his eyes on the ground. He clenched his fists in an effort to keep them from shaking. _I can do this. I must.

"Crucio_," came the hissed curse._

Draco opened his eyes, the pain still fresh in his mind. He glanced at his left forearm, knowing what resided beneath his robes and then returned his gaze to the fog-covered grounds. _Mother left again. I don't know where she went this time. The manor all to myself and my memories. _

He glanced over at his bed, where his letter from Hogwarts sat. _Another year. However, this one will be quite different. I've got plenty of work to do and I'm just hoping I have the strength to carry it out. I will rise above the rest and I will be the strongest of His Death Eaters. _

Draco stood, moving to his desk. He picked up the _Daily Prophet_, glancing at the front page. The article spoke about the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour and how Hogwarts had taken measures such as defensive spells, charms, countercurses and Aurors to keep Hogwarts safe from the Death Eaters.

Draco laughed bitterly. "You have no idea."

He tossed the paper aside and glanced in the mirror. He had grown taller in the past year but was still as lean as always. His face had thinned and become more angular, giving him an angelic look. _Dark angel perhaps_, he thought. His white-blond hair framed his face, his pale skin appearing ghostly in the glass. Visits to the Dark Lord hadn't helped him and the lack of sleep was evident.

Moving swiftly, he lay down on his bed, his silvery eyes looking upwards to the canopy above his bed. _Plenty have been killed already. Bones…Vance…now we have Dementors lurking about. I wonder what will happen to Azkaban, without the Dementors to guard the prisoners. Breeding Dementors…it's disgusting to think about. The Dark Mark appears over more houses every day. While I can't say I mind getting rid of Muggles and Mudbloods, its beginning to hit close to home. I know my mother worries about me constantly, though she tries to hide it. I have to be strong. For both of us. _

_It's hard enough to deal with Bellatrix and especially Greyback. He treats me like I'm an idiot. Like he knows any better. He's just a hairy beast, only out for blood. So he's a family friend…and he doesn't kill me because of it. That doesn't mean I have to like him. I ignore him as much as I can, but unfortunately, the Dark Lord seems to like putting me with him on Death Eater raids. Why, I have no clue. I'd much rather be with Professor Snape…though his part in this…I can't be sure. However, he's the only one I can trust, if there is such a word and it'll just have to do. I'll prove myself to him. That I can carry out the Dark Lord's wishes without hesitation. It'll be easy._

Draco reached over to where his Hogwarts letter lay and pulled out his OWL results. He unfolded the parchment and glanced over the grades.

Astronomy: O

Care of Magical Creatures: A

_Stupid class anyways,_ thought Draco.

Charms: O

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: E

_Don't know how I pulled that one off. It was the worst class I've been in._

Potions: O

_Of course._

Transfiguration: O

Draco thought he did decently; however, he had a feeling that the little Mudblood had managed to pull off all Outstandings. _It would figure as much. I know what Father would say if he was here to see these: "You can do better than that Draco. I'm disappointed in you. You're a Malfoy and you're expected to uphold our reputation. How are you planning on doing that when you can't even surpass a Mudblood?"_

_You're right, Father,_ thought Draco. _I'm sorry. I didn't want to disappoint you._ But he knew he had worked hard. He had studied constantly, staying up all night on plenty of occasions. However, it just didn't seem that he had the knack for being the top. He should have been, if everything was right in the world. But it wasn't. It wouldn't ever be. Unless Voldemort got rid of the pesky Mudbloods…but even then. What would happen?

He heard footsteps and sat up just as his mother entered his room. "Draco." She seemed extremely relieved and moved over to him. "Dear, you need to eat more. You're going to waste away like that. And with everything that's going on, we need you at your strongest."

He brushed her hand away when she tried to touch his face. "Yes, Mother, I know." He loved his mother dearly and would do anything for her, but sometimes she was far too overprotective.

"Yes, well." Narcissa straightened, her golden locks coming to a rest over her shoulders. "It's dinner time. We have some guests. You know how to act."

"Yes, Mother." It reminded him all too well of the many conversations he had had with his father. He did miss his father but it was life. He would deal with it.

He stood, straightening his robes. "Good," said Narcissa. "Now come down when you're ready." She turned and left, leaving Draco to look at the space where she once had stood.

As the beginning of the term drew closer, Draco knew his mother would be dragging him to Diagon Alley. As much as he hated being treated like a kid, the only way to get his supplies was to allow his mother to take him shopping. However, he had other things planned during their little excursion, business to be dealt with and the like, so as long as he could give her the slip, everything would work out.

He met his mother downstairs and they headed to Diagon Alley.

As they moved through the crowds, heading to various shops for Draco's supplies, he noticed that Diagon Alley had indeed, changed. He saw posters of Death Eaters covering shop windows and even the atmosphere seemed to be darker. Everyone moved in groups and though Draco knew he wasn't in any danger, it wouldn't be smart for him to appear that way. So, unfortunately, he was dragged along as if a child buying robes for the first time.

"Mother, why don't you get my books while I go get my robes," said Draco, pausing near the entrance of Madam Malkin's.

Narcissa shook her head. "Draco, you're not going alone. Come along. We'll just finish up here quickly. I'll even buy you new dress robes."

Draco thought about it and went to protest but upon seeing the look on his mother's face, he shut his mouth. _Oh well,_ he thought. _I'll try again soon. I really need to get to Knockturn Alley._ He glanced down the street to where the darker alley branched off and then entered the robe shop.

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy," Madam Malkin greeted. She smiled slightly and ushered them to the back. "You came at just the right time, not too busy yet. Now what can I get for you, dear?"

Draco glanced around and his eyes fell on a bolt of dark green cloth. It looked expensive. Perfect. _If I'm going to get dragged in here with my mother, I'm going to get something good._ "Dress robes. Those." He pointed to the cloth.

"Of course dear." Malkin took Draco's measurements and with a quick spell, conjured up the right amount of cloth. "Now stand up here."

Draco glared slightly, but stood. "Let's go. I haven't got all day." _Borgin will leave soon if I don't' get there._ "Mother, can you just get my books for me? I can handle this." Malkin began to pin up the robes and Draco held out his arms, allowing her to pin the rest of it.

"Draco," Narcissa chided. "I know you can, but it's not going to be that bad. Just a few minutes here and we'll get your books. You have plenty of time. Besides, you know very well that you're not to be wandering Diagon Alley alone, what with all the happenings as of late."

He almost retorted with the fact that he didn't have time, but stopped. Instead, he said, "I might want other robes. You can just pay now and we can get things done. Besides, why do we have to stay together? I'm not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping _alone._" He stressed the 'alone' part. He was not going to be able to do what he needed if his mother was trailing him.

Malkin clucked disapprovingly. "Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child – "

Draco felt one of the pins pinch him in the leg and gritted his teeth. "Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!" He pulled away, climbing off the stool, flashing a glare at Malkin. He heard her begin to talk to his mother and just ignored it. Instead, he strode over to the floor to ceiling mirror, turning this way and that to see how the robes looked. _Good. A good color for a Malfoy._ He glanced up and then noticed three familiar faces standing beside a rack of dress robes. _Potter, Weasel and Mudblood. Oh brilliant._ _Looks like Granger is sporting a nice black eye._ His gaze narrowed.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," he said nastily.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" Malkin protested, coming out from behind a rack with a tape measure and her wand. Draco saw Harry and Ron draw their wands and just held his sneer. Malkin saw the wands as well and said hastily, "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!"

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Draco. He snickered. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."

"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin sharply, glancing at Narcissa. "Madam – please – "

Draco watched as his mother moved swiftly over to Harry and Ron. "Put those away," she said coldly. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

And for one, Draco could only smirk. _That's the good thing about Mother. She may be rather over protective, but I'll admire her for her strength. Anyone has to have that to deal with my father._

"Really?" said Harry, moving to step in front of Narcissa. They were the same height now. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. "Really, you shouldn't accuse – dangerous thing to say – wands away, please!"

Draco narrowed his gaze.

Narcissa merely smiled unpleasantly. "I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."

_That's right,_ thought Draco with a smirk. _You can't win this time, Potter._

Harry looked around mockingly. "Wow…look at that…he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"

_How _dare_ he speak to my mother like that. Potter, you're going to regret that._ That had been the final straw and Draco moved angrily towards Harry. His foot caught the edge of his robe and he stumbled slightly but quickly regained his balance. "Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!" snarled Draco. _No one gets away with treating her like that._

"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, placing her fingers on his shoulders. He stopped, merely glaring venomously at the Trio. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."

Harry raised his wand higher but Hermione quickly moved to intervene. "Harry, no! Think…you mustn't…You'll be in such trouble…"

Malkin moved towards Draco, going to touch the left sleeve of the robe. "I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just – "

"Ouch!" he bellowed, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother – I don't think I want these anymore." He pulled the robes over his head and threw them down on the floor.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione. "Now that I know the kind of scum that shops here…We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's." Narcissa strode out, with Draco quickly behind. He slammed his shoulder hard into Ron, knocking him aside as he left.

_That was close,_ thought Draco, taking a breath of relief as soon as they were outside. He glared back at the shop. _Bloody Potter. What the hell did he think he was doing?_ He adjusted his robes, careful to make sure his left arm was covered. There was a certain mark there he didn't want anyone else seeing. He checked his wrist, however, to make sure he hadn't been pricked. _Why did I even think that we should get robes in Malkin's? She nearly stabbed me to death with those bloody pins of hers. The nerve._

Narcissa glanced over the list of Draco's supplies. "We just need a few more Potions ingredients and your books. That should be it."

"Mother, I'll go get the Potions ingredients while you get my books. Don't you have guests coming tonight?" he added quickly, in hopes to be able to slip away.

"Yes, but we have a few hours. It won't be a problem to get the rest together."

Draco was beginning to become frustrated and walked over to a more shadowed area. "How difficult is it, Mother? I can handle things on my own. You know what I've gone through!" he hissed quietly.

Narcissa's gaze narrowed. "And that is exactly _why_ I don't want you walking around. Who knows what could happen."

"Fine." Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest, glaring at her. "Let's just get the bloody books." _I'll just think of something…I've got to get away._

Narcissa looked pleased. "Good." They headed to the bookstore and upon entering, Draco spotted Pansy. He groaned inwardly and made a dodge for the nearest bookshelf, not really wanting to have her see him. She would only attach herself to him and then he would never be able to get to Borgin's. However, the bright side of the situation was that Pansy's mother, Rosetta Parkinson, was there as well, and Rosetta and Narcissa were good friends.

"Oh, Narcissa dear! I haven't seen you in ages!" Rosetta exclaimed, coming over to Narcissa with a smile. "How have you been?"

"As good as we can be."

"How is Draco taking it?" Rosetta asked quietly.

"He's doing well."

Draco tuned out the rest of their conversation, seeing his chance to escape. He slipped out the door silently and made his way to Knockturn Alley. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed and then moved through the dingy streets until he reached Borgin and Burke's. It still looked the same as always, dirty and dark. A perfect place to what he needed to accomplish.

Draco moved inside quickly, glancing at the black cabinet that sat against the wall. He strode up to the counter and waited until Borgin had arrived.

"Ah, young Mister Malfoy. How can I help you today?" asked Borgin, in his slimy voice. However, there was a look of resentment and fear in his gaze. Draco smirked _ Good._

"There's a certain situation that needs taken care of," said Draco coolly. "I have a cabinet similar to yours and it needs fixing. Not a word of this to anyone."

"But of course."

"I don't want questions asked. We need to get this done and done quickly. He will not be pleased if this isn't finished by the deadline. I have certain things to accomplish, which are none of your concern. The cabinet in question doesn't connect to this one the way it should. If things are going to go according to plan, it needs taken care of. Now, do you know how to fix it?"

"Possibly," began Borgin, in a tone that suggested that he was unwilling to commit himself. "I'll need to see it, though. Why don't you bring it into the shop?"

"I can't. It's got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."

"Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn't guarantee anything."

Draco narrowed his gaze dangerously. "No?" he sneered. "Perhaps this will make you more confident." He drew back his left sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark. The fear on Borgin's face showed it all and Draco knew that he had the slimy man in his grasp. No one messed with the Death Eaters. "Tell anyone," he said menacingly, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend. He'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."

"There will be no need for – "

"I'll decide that. Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep _that_ one safe, I'll need it."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes. _What an idiot…if I didn't need this cabinet for the Dark Lord's plans, I wouldn't even be putting up with this man. _"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."

"Of course not…sir." Borgin bowed deeply.

"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?"

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Borgin, bowing once again.

Draco turned, striding from the shop, smirking. _Perfect. Now that I have that in place and once I get that cabinet fixed, everything will be in order. He should be pleased that it is all going according to plan._

Draco hurried to the bookshop, slipping back inside and selecting a book from one of the shelves. He took a seat in a chair and pretended to be reading. If his mother was looking for him, he might as well appear as if he had been there the entire time.

Good fortune seemed to rain on him that day, for Narcissa hadn't even left the shop yet, so caught up in her conversation with Rosetta. Finally, Narcissa made her way through the bookshop, spotting Draco in the back. "Draco, there you are. Did you get your books?"

"Not yet. I was caught up in reading." Draco held up _Potions of This and That._ "I must have lost track of the time." He wasn't one for lying to his mother, but he couldn't very well tell her everything that was going on. She knew enough, but that was it. There were plenty of things that Voldemort had spoken to him about that wasn't for her ears and would never be. Such as the connecting cabinets in Borgin's shop and Hogwarts.

"It's getting late. Get your books and we'll stop by the Alchemist's shop on the way out."

"Yes, Mother." Draco stood, putting the rather boring book away and took the book list from his mother. He began searching for the books and then he felt someone drape themselves on him.

"Draco! I've missed you," cooed Pansy.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hello, Pansy." He began collecting books in his arms. "I need to get books, so I can't talk right now."

Pansy pouted. "Draco, you never have time for me anymore. What have you been up to?" She went to touch his arm and he moved back quickly, nearly dropping the books. His arm still hurt and the Mark seemed to burn every so often. Besides, his position was supposed to be a secret. And if a blabbermouth like Pansy ever got wind of it, he'd never be able to carry out his orders.

"I've been busy," he said curtly. "Mother, here are my books." He handed them to her and turned back to Pansy. "I'll see you on the train."

"But that's weeks from now!"

"At least you'll get to see me." He glanced over at Narcissa, watching as she paid for the books. Then she walked over, handing Draco his bag.

"Pansy, a pleasure to see you, dear," said Narcissa, but there was a cool edge to her tone. "However, our visit must be cut short, as I have some guests tonight. Come along, Draco." Narcissa gripped Draco's shoulder. "We need to be leaving."

"Of course, Mother." Draco glanced at Pansy. "Save a compartment on the train."

"I always do" Pansy smiled and Draco merely waved her off, heading out of the bookshop.


	2. Another Year

_**The Other Side of the Mirror**_

**Year Six**

**Chapter Two**

**-Another Year-**

"Focus. Why aren't you focusing, Draco?" came the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. She stood before Draco in his father's study, her thin figure garbed in long black robes, trimmed in red. Her wavy, raven hair looked better than it used to be. Even her face had filled out more and the insane look in her eyes only appeared when she was fighting, something she loved more than anything else. However, that was to be expected, after being out of Azkaban for so long and eating.

Bellatrix, along with Snape on occasion, visited Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix, being Draco's aunt, had taken it upon herself to teach him Occlumency. If he was to be able to keep Dumbledore none the wiser about what he'd be doing at Hogwarts that year, he'd need to block his mind. Draco, more specifically, wanted to learn to block Snape.

"I am focusing," he snapped back and prepared himself for another of Bellatrix's attacks. "Just do it already."

_It's _my _job and I won't let Snape steal my glory. The Dark Lord has given this job to me…_ and as he was hit by Bellatrix's mind, a memory flashed before his eyes.

"_Draco Malfoy," came the hissing voice of the Dark Lord from within the shadows of his hood. _

"_Yes ,my Lord." Draco kept his head bowed, kneeling before Voldemort. He kept his eyes closed, his hands clenched into fists within the sleeves of his robes. He couldn't let the Dark Lord see that he was scared. _I'm not scared. I'm not._ He thought with more bravado than he felt._

"_Since your father's demise and foul up last year, you are given a chance to redeem your family. Do you wish to proceed?"_

"_Yes, my Lord." Draco forced his voice not to quake._

"_Good. You will return to Hogwarts and upon doing so, you will kill Albus Dumbledore." The voice sneered with obvious hatred._

_Draco couldn't help but let out a gasp of surprise, which he quickly muffled. His eyes widened as he looked at the damp earth beneath him. _Dumbledore? Kill Dumbledore? _Sure, they had their differences and Draco didn't exactly like the Headmaster, but he never wanted to kill him._

"_Do not prove to be as weak as your father, Draco," snapped the Dark Lord, bringing Draco's attention back to the present._

"_No, my Lord. I am not weak."_

"_Then do this and take your place within the Death Eaters. If you succeed, then you will have proven your worth. However, if you fail," The Dark Lord's voice grew quieter and more menacing, sending shivers through Draco, "you will be killed, along with your mother. And trust me when I say that it will not be a pleasant death"_

_Draco swallowed, knowing that the Dark Lord's threats were very viable. He knew of how the Dark Lord killed people and the intense torture beyond imagining. _I will not fail! I can't! I'm not going to let him kill my family!_ He thought fiercely._

"_I will not fail, my Lord."_

"_We shall see."_

"Draco!" Bellatrix's voice snapped him out of his memories and he found himself on the ground, lying on his back. She stood over him, glaring. "You're better than this. You've had no problems before during all of our other lessons. What's the problem now?"

Draco winced, pulling himself to his feet. He smoothed his black clothes. "I'm fine, Aunt," he retorted. "You know as well as I do that I'm a better Occlumens then most."

"That may be the case, but you're still doing your lessons."

Draco scowled. "Try again and you'll see that I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."

"_Legilimens!" _

Draco felt her try to force herself into his mind and he blocked it easily, throwing up an impenetrable wall. _"Aegre!_" A thick welt appeared across her hand and she hissed in pain, her dark eyes flashing with anger.

"Don't play your tricks on me, Draco. The Dark Lord won't be so kind as me, if you should try this on him," she said coolly.

"I don't plan on using it on him," he retorted with equal coldness. "I'm done for today." He turned and walked out of the study, heading quickly for his room. Once he was inside, he shut the door, locking it and walked to his window. Taking a seat on the lip of the tall, arched window, he looked outside over the maze. Fog blanketed the dark green, hedged maze, which was beginning to show effects of August weather. The leaves were beginning to color and the branches of surrounding trees whipped in the cold, brutal wind.

He sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool glass, closing his eyes. _If I hadn't brought up my knowledge about those Vanishing Cabinets, I wouldn't be in this situation now. I thought I was so clever, devising a plan on how to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Montague didn't realize he had struck gold, but I did. I knew exactly what had happened. _

Another memory enveloped him.

_Draco stood before a robed figure, standing on a dais in the center of a dark, stone-walled room. On either side of him stood a Death Eater. One was Bellatrix and the other was Fenrir Greyback. Draco was glad to see that Snape wasn't there, as this part of his plan didn't involve the Potions Master. His mother stood in another room, probably worried sick that he had decided to go to the Dark Lord. But after hearing about what was happening with the Death Eaters, and their attempts at figuring out a way into Hogwarts, he took a chance. He had told Bellatrix that he had found out a way to get them inside, unnoticed._

_She had brought it to the attention of the Dark Lord, who requested Draco's presence._

_Draco swallowed, moving forward and bowing his head in respect. "My Lord."_

"_It is has come to my knowledge that you know a way into Hogwarts?" hissed the Dark Lord._

"_Yes. The Vanishing Cabinets. There's one in Borgin and Burkes. He doesn't know what it does, but I do. It's connected to one inside Hogwarts. A friend of mine was lost in it last year and he said he could hear things going on in both ends. But it's broken" _

"_You come here claiming to have a plan and then tell me it won't work?" snapped the Dark Lord with a cold menace._

"_I can fix it!" said Draco quickly, looking up at the Dark Lord. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was terrified, but he forced his face to remain cool and collected._

_The Dark Lord was quiet and a curtain of deadly silence filled the room. Torches flickered around them, casting shadows on the stones and on the faces of the two Death Eaters. Finally, the Dark Lord spoke. "What is your proposed plan?"_

"_I'll fix the cabinet, my Lord. And then you can use them to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts."_

"_Your friends are at Hogwarts. What is your purpose in aiding me? Other than saving your own life, of course."_

_Draco bowed his head. "I wish to prove my worth, my Lord. I wish to see your success." He swallowed, forcing his words to come out slowly and calmly, despite his hammering heart. "My father failed you but I will not."_

Draco blinked, bringing himself out of his memory. _Now I've got no choice,_ he thought bitterly. _I have to carry out the plan and I will. It won't be hard. I can fix that cabinet. I didn't receive Outstandings to do nothing with them. Borgin will tell me how to fix it and if he doesn't, well, then I'll deal with him._

Draco rubbed his left forearm, looking back outside. He heard the door open and looked over to see his mother standing there. "Mother," he greeted.

"Draco." Narcissa moved over to her son, reaching out and touching the side of his face. "What's been troubling you? You don't eat and you don't seem to sleep. I'm worried."

He brushed her hand away. "I'm fine, Mother." He looked out over the maze. "I've just been very busy and I haven't been hungry lately." He looked back at her. "Don't worry so much."

"Someone has to. You return to Hogwarts in only a few short days. Are you sure you're ready?"

His gaze narrowed. "Mother," he said firmly. "I told you. I'm fine. I can handle it. I've got a plan and it's going to work." He hadn't told her about what the Dark Lord has requested of him, about Dumbledore, and he wasn't going to tell her. It would only make her more worried. She didn't even know about his plans for the Vanishing Cabinets.

"I just don't want to lose you too."

"You won't."

Narcissa shook her head but gave him a small smile. "You remind me of your father more every day."

Draco felt warmed at the compliment, as it was one of his aspirations to become as powerful as his father once had been. Also, of course, to surpass his father and be put into the Dark Lord's good graces, if there was such a thing. _I think Father would be proud to see what I've managed to do. Me, a sixteen year old, and someone that the Dark Lord needs,_ he thought with a smirk.

"I hope I would." _Except I'm not going to make mistakes. I'll take care of Potter and that will be that._

She smiled. "How did you lessons go today?"

He shrugged, leaning against the window as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. I'm perfectly capable of defending myself. I don't see the point in continuing."

Narcissa frowned. "Draco, you know very well why you must continue."

"Mother," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a child. Stop treating me like one." He stood, walking over to his wardrobe and opening it. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror. He ran his hands down his black silk shirt, smoothing it. He looked very much like his father, carrying the same elegance as Lucius. Over the past summer he had done plenty of growing up. His constant meetings with the Dark Lord, however, had begun to take their toll. However, even with the lack of sleep, Draco knew he was still quite handsome, with angular features and sleek blond hair, now hanging freely about his face.

Narcissa came up behind him, looking into the mirror. They stood at the same height now. "You look so much like Lucius," she whispered. She placed her hand on his shoulder, looking at him. He looked at her. "Draco, I want you to have this." She took out a small black box from a pocket in her dark blue robes. She placed it in his hand. "It was your father's and it was to be given to you when you had met his standards. I believe that you have far more courage than you realize. This next year is going to be rough but I know that you can get through it. Just be careful, Draco. Promise me that much."

He held the box tightly. "I promise, Mother. Don't worry."

She smiled slightly, but there was worry in her eyes. "I wish I didn't have to." She hugged him and he slowly returned her hug. They parted and she glanced at the box before looking back at him. "Open that when you wish." She squeezed his shoulders and then left.

Draco looked down at the box and then walked over to his bed, taking a seat. He opened the box slowly to reveal a silver chain necklace, with an oval emerald surrounded by diamonds. Inside the emerald was the Malfoy family crest: Twin serpents surrounding a decorative 'M'. He ran his fingers over the necklace. _Our heirloom. My father treasured this necklace. It always sat in a display case in his study, something to admire but never to touch. _He gently picked up the necklace, setting down the box. _Now it's mine. I won't fail you, Father. I will avenge you and I will rise above all the rest. No one will stop me. Not even Potter._ He hooked the necklace around his neck, slipping it beneath his shirt. Then he stood, heading out.

Draco climbed onto the Hogwarts Express, heading to his usual compartment. Pansy and Blaise Zabini were already there. Crabbe and Goyle would be on their way soon enough. He'd have to catch up with Nott later.

"Draco!" cooed Pansy. "I saved you a compartment." She smiled brightly and he gave her a small smile in return.

"Of course you did." He strode in, taking a seat next to her.

"Did you hear about the new professor?" asked Zabini.

"Slughorn, isn't it?" said Draco, leaning back against the booth.

"He's supposed to be a pretty decent teacher. I wonder what class he'll teach," mused Pansy. She reached over, tugging at Draco's shoulders and brought him down so that his head rested in her lap. He didn't resist, figuring it wouldn't do much use anyways. As she began to run her fingers through his hair, he smirked. _That feels good. Guess she's useful afterall._

"Who knows," said Draco with a slight shrug.

The compartment door opened and Crabbe and Goyle thundered in, sitting down on either side of Zabini. Zabini didn't look pleased to be sitting between the two large boys. "I'm starving," complained Crabbe. "Do you have any food, Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes slightly. "Crabbe, you're always hungry. Just go into the first year's compartments. They always have plenty of food."

"Tsk, tsk, Draco," clucked Pansy. "You're a Prefect. You're supposed to set the example."

Draco pushed Pansy's hand away, sitting up. "Don't try to mother me, Pansy," he said with a scowl. _At this point, Prefect duties are the least of my worries,_ he thought. _Besides, I have bigger things to take care of. _

"Sitting around and being lazy, Malfoy?" Draco looked to see Ron Weasley standing in the doorway, a contemptuous look on his face.

"Well, well, Weasel," sneered Draco as he stood. "Thought you'd like to get a bit of ranting in early, did you? Shopping around for new friends? Wouldn't be surprised if they finally got rid of you. All you do is slow them down."

Ron glared at him. "At least I'm doing something useful, instead of lying around. But that's your specialty, isn't it, Malfoy."

"Ooh, big words coming from someone without much of a brain. Did Granger teach you over the summer?"

Ron's eyes flicked to Zabini and Goyle, who now stood behind Draco. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy." A group of first-years ran past just as Ron went for his wand. Ron removed his hand from his pocket. "Be lucky they were there or –"

"Or what?" Draco smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you think _you _could possibly do to me?"

"Plenty."

"Better work on your threats, Weasel. They wouldn't scare a flobberworm." He shoved Ron into the corridor and shut the compartment door.

"Who does he think he is, barging in here like that?" said Pansy.

Draco shrugged. "At this point, I don't really care." He walked over, taking a seat next to Pansy again. He lay down, allowing her to resume running her fingers through his hair. _I could be out there, using my Prefect powers, but what's the point? I'll have plenty of power soon enough and being a Prefect will hardly matter. Besides, I have to figure out how to fix that cabinet. This group will need to know, the basics at least. As soon as we reach Hogwarts, we have to begin. The clock is ticking and the Dark Lord isn't known for his patience._

"I heard people talking about Slughorn," said Goyle suddenly. "He's inviting people to some sort of meeting."

Draco was suddenly interested and looked at Goyle. "A meeting? What sort of meeting?" _Slughorn…wasn't he a professor when my father was in school? The Slug Club or something. An elite club for the gifted. Father always did say that Slughorn had chosen well. The Dark Lord himself had been part of that club and look how powerful he had become. I wonder if he's going to do the same thing this year. Wouldn't be surprised if I got an invitation._

"I dunno." Goyle shrugged, pulling out a bag of cookies from his pocket. He began munching.

The compartment door opened again and Draco glanced at it. _It better not be Weasley again,_ he thought with a scowl. However, it was merely a young first-year boy, holding a scroll tied with a violet ribbon in his hands. "This is for Blaise Zabini."

Blaise stood, taking the scroll, and the boy left. Blaise shut the door with a kick and sat back down.

"Who's that from?" asked Draco.

Blaise unrolled the scroll. "It's from Professor Slughorn. An invitation. We're supposed to go to a meeting in his compartment."

Draco nearly scowled but stopped, thinking. _I need to talk to them, but I suppose it'll have to wait._ "Then go. Tell me what happens."

"Will do." Zabini stood, leaving and shutting the door behind him. Draco closed his eyes, feeling Pansy's fingers continue to run through his hair.

"Probably boring anyways, but it'll be interesting to see who he chooses," said Draco.

"Where were you all summer, Draco?" asked Pansy. "I hardly saw you."

"It's none of your concern. Let's just say I was busy."

Pansy stared down at him. "What did you do?"

Crabbe and Goyle, having found things to munch on, looked at Draco curiously.

Draco glanced at them and then pulled out his father's necklace, fingering the stone. "Worked on something. But I'm not going to go into details now. Later, when we have the whole group." He put the necklace back inside his shirt and closed his eyes. For the first time, he actually felt sleep tugging at his consciousness and decided, for once, to let it take over. His body needed it and soon he was fast asleep.

He stirred some time later, opening his eyes to see Crabbe reading a comic, Goyle was busy writing something, and Pansy was looking in a small mirror, touching up her makeup. He sat up, stretching. "Did I miss anything?" he asked.

"No, it's been awfully boring. Why are you so tired anyways?" asked Pansy, putting her mirror away.

"Even Malfoys need their sleep. Did Zabini come back yet?"

"No," answered Pansy. "He's been gone for hours."

Draco glanced outside, seeing that it had turned dark. "We're almost to the school. Zabini better get back here soon."

Just then, the compartment door opened and Zabini walked in. Zabini went to shut it but it seemed stuck. "What's wrong with this thing?" said Zabini angrily as tried to shut the door, but it wouldn't move.

Suddenly, Zabini stumbled, toppling onto Goyle's lap. "Get off me!" snapped Goyle, trying to get Zabini off him.

"Not my fault your big fat feet were in the way," snarled Zabini.

Draco glanced at them but something white caught his attention. His eyes flicked to the luggage rack and he frowned. Goyle slammed the door shut and flung Zabini off him. Draco's attention was drawn back to them as Zabini collapsed back into his own seat, looking ruffled. He sniggered and lay back down, allowing Pansy to touch his hair again. He smirked, glancing at Crabbe, who was still immersed in his comic. Goyle shot a glare over at Zabini but was quiet.

"So, Zabini, what did Slughorn want?" asked Draco.

"Just trying to make up to well-connected people," said Zabini, glowering at Goyle. He looked back at Draco. "Not that he managed to find many."

Draco scowled. "Who else had he invited?" _I want to know who exactly is in this little club of his. _

"McLaggen from Gryffindor."

"Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry."

" – someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw – "

"Not him, he's a prat!" said Pansy.

"- and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl."

Draco sat up suddenly, shoving Pansy's hand away. "He invited _Longbottom_?" _What, in Merlin's name, would make him want to invite that incompetent idiot?_

"Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there," said Zabini indifferently.

"What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn." Zabini only shrugged and Draco sneered. "Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at '_the Chosen One,_' but that Weasley girl! What's so special about _her?_"

"A lot of boys like her," said Pansy, watching Draco out of the corner of her eye. "Even you think she's good looking, don't you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!"

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," said Zabini coldly and Pansy looked pleased. Draco smirked and lay down again, settling his head in Pansy's lap. He felt her fingers resume their stroking.

"Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train or –"

"I wouldn't bank on an invitation," said Zabini. "He asked me about Nott's father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry, he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters."

Draco felt anger rise inside him. _How dare that buffoon act as though we're not good enough for his little club. My father was plenty good enough and still is. _However, he merely let out a singularly humorless laugh. "Well, who cares what he's interested in?" he said with a shrug. "What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher." He yawned ostentatiously. "I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"

His eyes flicked to the luggage rack but then returned to the rest of the Slytherins. _I'm not going to say anything revealing, but it might be fun to lead Potter on, if my suspicions are right_. He smirked.

"What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" asked Pansy indignantly, stopping her fingers.

"Well, you never know," said Draco, smirking slightly. "I might have – er – moved on to bigger and better things." Crabbe and Goyle gaped at Draco. Zabini looked curious and Pansy looked dumbfounded. She began running her hand through his hair again.

"Do you mean – _Him_?"

Draco shrugged. "Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it…When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many OWLs or NEWTs anyone's got? Of course he isn't…It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown."

"And you think _you'll_ be able to do something for him?" asked Zabini scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," he said quietly. _Something that better work or I'm done for. It's going to take a lot of work._

Crabbe and Goyle still stared at them, their mouths open in shock. Draco glanced out the window and then sat up, relishing in the fact that he had stunned them all. _All the better. Fixing that cabinet shouldn't be too hard, especially with them in awe of me. Everyone will be in awe when they see me rise above all the rest._ "I can see Hogwarts. We'd better get our robes on."

He stood, along with the others and reached for his trunk. He heard a thump as Goyle tugged down his trunk and heard a gasp. He quickly spun, frowning at the seemingly empty space on the luggage rack. _Potter…_

He turned back around and smirked. _I'll get you, you just wait._ He opened his trunk and pulled out his robes, pulling them on. Then he took out a thick traveling cloak and locked his trunk. Fastening it around his neck, he felt the train begin to slow. With a final lurch, the train came to a halt. Goyle threw open the compartment door and moved out, shoving away a crowed of second years. Crabbe and Zabini followed closely behind.

Pansy looked at Draco, holding out her hand. "You go on," he said. "I just want to check something." Pansy sighed and left, shutting the door behind her.

Draco walked over the compartment door, watching as people filed past. Then he shut the blinds and moved to his trunk. _Potter's probably stupid enough to think I'd actually say something worth hearing. Nosey Potter. Always trying to be the hero._ He smirked, bending down over his trunk, opening it. He pretended to get something, rifling through his clothes. At the same time, he slipped his wand into his hand.

Spinning around quickly, he said, "_Petrificus Totalus!_." He watched with a satisfied smirk as Harry toppled down off the shelf, landing on the floor with a ground-shaking crash. Harry's Invisibility Cloak was trapped beneath him, revealing his entire body.

Draco just smiled broadly. "I thought so. I heard Goyle's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back…" Draco glanced at Harry's trainers and then looked back at him. "You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here…"

He stamped hard on Harry's face, watching as blood spurted everywhere. He heard a satisfying crunch and knew he had broken Harry's nose. _Just a little taste of what's coming to you, Potter_, he thought venomously.

"That's from my father," he said coldly. _The only reason he's in Azkaban is because of you, Potter. You'll regret it, in the end._ "Now let's see…" Draco bent down, tugging Harry's cloak out from beneath him and threw it over Harry's immobilized form. "I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London," he said quietly. "See you around Potter…or not." He smirked, leaving, making sure he stepped on Harry's fingers. He walked through the corridor, exiting the train and finding his group waiting by the carriages.

"What did you have to do?" asked Pansy.

Draco smirked. "It seemed we had a little eavesdropper."

Zabini arched an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Potter."

"Potter?" Zabini repeated. "How –"

"Invisibility cloak. The idiot." Draco snickered as they climbed into the carriages. "But I petrified him and broke his nose. He'll be in plenty of trouble if he manages to find his way back to Hogwarts."

The group laughed and Draco felt the carriage move as they headed to Hogwarts.


	3. Back to School

_**The Other Side of the Mirror**_

**Year Six**

**Chapter Three**

**-Back to School-**

Draco entered the Great Hall accompanied by his friends, if he could really call them that. But they served their purpose. He strode towards the Slytherin table, glancing at the Gryffindor table on his way. He smirked with satisfaction upon seeing that Potter was not present. _Good._ He took a seat at the table, continuing his conversation with Zabini, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle.

" – he could get it," Zabini was saying.

Draco glanced over, having missed the first part of what Zabini had said. "Who?"

"Professor Snape. The DADA position is open again."

"Won't Professor Slughorn fill it though?" asked Pansy, scooting so that she was close to Draco. She placed a hand on his arm, which he ignored.

"It would be brilliant if Professor Snape got the position, but," said Zabini with a shrug, "we can't always count on anything."

The doors to the Great Hall opened and Draco watched as Professor McGonagall led in the first years. He stifled a yawn and folded his arms on the table. His gaze drifted to his arm and then back to the wood grains of the table, deep in thought. _This definitely isn't going to be easy,_ he thought. _I got the instructions from Borgin on how to fix the cabinet, but it's going to take time. And time is not something I have. The Dark Lord isn't exactly known for his patience._ Draco felt his stomach twist and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm his uneasiness. _Now I've just got to figure out a place to be able to fix it, without being detected…_

Then a thought struck him. _Bloody hell, how could I have been so stupid! The Room of Requirement. Where Potter and his little army made their plans. I can get access to the cabinet and as long as I've got lookouts, I don't think it'll be a problem. I already have Rosmerta in place. She'll be my back up, of course, if things don't go as planned. I just hope this goes fast. My mother and my father, even if he is in Azkaban, are not safe and they'll be killed if I don't do this. _I'll_ be killed._

He thought back to the previous month, when he had gone into Hogsmeade with Pansy and her parents.

"_Draco! We just have to go to Gladrags," said Pansy, her hold on his arm a little too tight for comfort._

_He repressed a glare and tried to remove his arm from her iron grip. "Pansy, why don't you go with your mother?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as pleasant as possible, while inside he was screaming to get away. "Pick out something nice and surprise me."_

"_Ooh!" she squealed excitedly. "I know exactly what to look for!" And, mercifully, she let go of his arm to lead her mother into the shop. _

_Draco glanced around and then moved towards the Three Broomsticks. They were planning on meeting up with Pansy's father later, who had to stop in Dervish and Banges. He entered the noisy pub, walking to the bar and taking a seat. _

"_Draco Malfoy, well if this isn't a surprise," said Rosmerta, walking over. She was cleaning a mug with a white cloth as she spoke. "I didn't expect you to be straying far from your mother, especially with the heightened security nowadays."_

_Draco glared slightly. "I can take care of myself, thanks. Just get me a butterbeer."_

_She shook her head. "Someone's knickers are in a twist." She turned and poured him a butterbeer, setting it in front of him. _

"_I just don't need a second mother," he snapped, pulling the butterbeer towards him. He sipped it, looking away. _I've got to have a backup, someone to keep watch out here for me,_ he thought. His gaze moved back to Rosmerta, who was cleaning up a spill on the counter. She smiled at a customer, serving him a drink and chatting idly. Then something clicked inside his brain and Draco's eyebrows rose. _Perfect._ He glanced around. _Now…how to get her alone._ He watched her, trying to devise a plan. She walked down towards the end of the bar and opened a door, going into the back room._

_He smirked, seeing his chance and climbed off his chair. He finished his butterbeer and then made his way inconspicuously towards the door that Rosmerta had entered. He glanced around and, seeing no one watching, slipped in after. The walls of the room were covered in shelves, stocked full of glasses, mugs and boxes. Rosmerta's back was to him as she reached up for two mugs._

_He pulled out his wand and pointed at her. She turned at that moment but he had already said, "_Imperio!_" Her gaze seemed to glaze over and he kept his gaze level, his voice cold. Taking a page out of his father's book, he attempted to keep his voice as calm and dispassionate as possible. Casting an Unforgivable wasn't exactly something he wanted to do, but he knew he had to, to get the results he needed. "Take this," he said, holding out a seemingly innocent Galleon. However, it was no mere coin. It was enchanted, an idea he had taken from Dumbledore's Army. This way, he and Rosmerta would be able to communicate without Dumbledore ever realizing. _

_Draco smirked as she took it. "I'll be giving you instructions later. But first, I need you to go to Borgin and Burkes. There's a cursed necklace that I want you to buy. It's the only one there so it won't be hard to get. Just buy it and keep it. I might have a use for it later."_

"_Of course."_

"_Keep the coin hidden and speak of this to no one." He turned and, after making sure no one was watching, slipped out of the room and disappeared into the crowded pub. _

_Madam Rosmerta came out a few minutes later, carrying her mugs and as chipper as ever, as if nothing had happened.._

"Draco, are you even listening to me?" came an annoyed voice.

Draco blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He looked at Pansy. "What?"

She sighed. "Draco, I –" but she was interrupted as Zabini suddenly shoved Goyle.

"Get your bloody arm away from my food!" snarled Zabini. Draco realized, at that moment, that dishes heaped with delicious food covered the tables. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even hear the Sorting taking place.

Goyle glared back. "I was reaching for the potatoes, not your food."

"Just don't touch me," snapped Zabini and moved to sit on the other side of Theodore Nott, who was snickering.

Draco snickered as well, watching this display. He reached across the table for chicken wings, taking a few and beginning to eat.

"So what happened on the train, Draco?" Nott asked, helping himself to some carrots.

He laughed. "Oh, it was brilliant, you should have seen. Stupid Potter. He thought he could listen in on our conversation so I gave him a little lesson in manners." He sniggered. "After they left," he said with a nod towards Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Pansy, "I Petrified the git and broke his nose." He mimed his actions and everyone who was listening in laughed.

"Wish I could have seen his face!" crowed one of the Slytherins.

"He deserved it," snickered another.

"Why do I always miss all the good things?" laughed Nott.

Their continued conversation was full of laughter, jokes and Crabbe and Goyle making fools of themselves as usual, but it helped to take Draco's mind off what he had to do.

" – is it true, Draco?" asked Nott. He lowered his voice. "That you've got a job from _Him_?" His eyebrows were raised and Draco merely smirked.

"Let's just say that I'm well on my way to becoming what my father could have been." _The key is to keep up the appearance of confidence,_ thought Draco. Inside, his stomach was doing nervous twists but on the outside, he was as arrogant as always.

"I still say that there's nothing a sixteen year old wizard could do," said Zabini, shrugging.

Draco held his smirk. "But you don't know what He wants, do you Zabini? So you'll just have to take my word on it." The Slytherins around him were quiet, a little bit of awe in their eyes. He leaned back casually, folding his arms behind his head. "Besides, the devotion we give Him is more important than anything else at this moment. Who knows what will happen to Hogwarts."

Several of their eyes went wide. "What are you planning?" asked Nott. Crabbe and Goyle stared, dumbfounded.

Zabini just narrowed his gaze. "Yes, Draco, do tell."

"All in good time."

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall opened and all eyes went to the person walking through the doors. Harry Potter.

Draco snickered. "The _Chosen One_ can't even arrive to dinner on time. Pathetic." Several of the other Slytherins were laughing and snickering. Several students actually stood to see what all the commotion was about and a very red-faced Potter took his seat. The blood was caked on his face, a result of his interaction with Draco.

"Good look for Potter," snickered Nott.

"Nice job, Draco," another Slytherin commented.

"All in a days work," smirked Draco. "Potter didn't even see what was coming."

Several other Slytherins had turned there attention to Draco. "Did you really break his nose?" one of them asked, laughing.

"Oh it was quite the sight." Draco grinned, miming the shattering of Harry's nose. "Blood everywhere. And the best part was, he was completely frozen. Couldn't do a thing."

The Slytherins were laughing and applauding. "Potter got what he deserved."

Dumbledore stood at that moment and they quieted down, turning their attention to the Headmaster. Draco glanced around, bored. _I don't really care what he has to say. It doesn't have any use. _

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room.

Draco noticed that Dumbledore's right hand was blackened and dead-looking and frowned. _Wonder what happened…I don't remember hearing anything about that._ Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now…to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…"

"This is so stupid," muttered Draco beneath his breath. He picked up a spoon and ran it through his fingers.

"…and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn" - Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table below into shadow – "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post as Potions master."

Draco's head jerked up at this and he stared. Then a slow smirk crept over his face. If Slughorn was Potions master that meant…

"Potions?"

"_Potions?_"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether or not they had heard right.

Zabini and Nott glanced at each other and then Draco. "Then what's Professor Snape going to teach?" asked Nott.

"Isn't it obvious?" smirked Draco.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," continued Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" came a cry.

Draco glanced over, seeing Potter fuming. He snickered. "Poor Potter, now he can't slide by. Even the Chosen One will have to do work this year."

The other Slytherins laughed and applauded Snape loudly, a few of them yelling their approval. Snape merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment.

"Finally. Professor Snape deserves that position more than anyone else," said Pansy, nodding. "He's going to be brilliant."

"Will Slughorn be easy?" wondered Crabbe.

"What do you care, Crabbe," said Draco, rolling his eyes. "You're not in Potions this year."

"Oh right…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

Draco stifled a yawn. _Who cares? I know he's back and he's going to come here as soon as I fix the cabinet. And they have no idea._ He took out his wand and levitated his fork, making it hover in midair. It was far more interesting then anything Dumbledore had to say.

"…I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety," Dumbledore was saying. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Benches were moved back, sending echoing scraping noises throughout the Hall. The students stood, making their way from the Great Hall.

As they made their way to the Slytherin common room, several people asked about the train incident and Draco was more than happy to tell the tale. It soon became the joke of Slytherin and the other Houses were well-informed, Draco made sure of that.

Once they were back inside the common room, Draco took a seat in a huge, leather chair, propping his feet up on a footrest. Pansy stood behind him, running her fingers through his hair. Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Slytherins sat lazily around him, enjoying just being back.

"So what's this big plan of yours?" asked Nott.

"I have to fix something for Him," said Draco simply. "It'll be well worth it in the end."

"Looks more to me like a trial," said Zabini. "You know He only gave you this job so that he could see if you're better than your father. If you ask me, your dad wasn't very careful and he messed up, big time."

Draco glared and in an instant, his wand was pointed at Zabini's throat. "It was Potter's fault what happened, not my father's. If you think you can get away with insulting my father, you're dead wrong. I've used Unforgivables and I won't hesitate."

There was something in his eyes that made Zabini shut his mouth. Once Draco felt that he had successfully quieted Zabini, he sat back, pocketing his wand. "Anyone else care to try me?" he asked coldly.

The rest of them shook their heads. "Can we help?" asked Nott.

"You're good at Charms, right Nott?" asked Draco.

"I got an O and Professor Flitwick said that I was the one of the best."

"Good. Then I'll show you later."

"What are we going to do?" asked Crabbe, pulling out a muffin from his pocket and eating it.

"You're going to stand watch while we fix it."

"Fix what?" asked Pansy.

"You remember that cabinet that Montague got lost in?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with anything?" asked Zabini.

"Well, it's connected to another one. It's supposed to be, anyways," said Draco with a shrug. "It just needs repaired."

"And you think _you_ can do that?" asked Zabini incredulously. "That's advanced magic." Draco went for his wand and Zabini held up a hand. "Look, all I'm saying is that it's going to be a lot harder than you think."

Draco scowled. "Don't you think I realize that, you idiot?" he snapped. "I know what I'm doing. I'll fix it, that's not going to be the problem."

"How are you going to fix it?" asked Goyle, his comic in his hands. He was flipping through it again, but not really paying attention.

"That's what will take time. But first –" Draco looked at Nott. "You're taking Advanced Potions, right?"

Nott nodded. "Creighton and Wallingsworth are taking it as well."

"Good." He stood up, much to Pansy's protests, and took Nott's arm, leading him away from the group. He lowered his voice. "I need Polyjuice Potion but I don't have the time to make it. So tomorrow, if we have Potions, then we need to steal some of the potion. That's your job."

Nott smirked. "With Slughorn as the professor, I don't see it being a problem. He seems like the type to be easily distracted."

"I'm sure that once I talk to him about my father, then I'll be his favorite. Afterall, Slughorn and my father were close. I don't care what Zabini thinks, I always get my way."

"That you do."

"Not a word of this to anyone, understand?"

Nott nodded. "Sure."

Draco stepped back, satisfied. "I'm going to head to bed, it's getting late and we have to get up early."

"Night." Nott returned to the group and Draco made his way upstairs to his dormitory. Changing into pajamas, he slid into his bed, shutting the drapes of his four-poster. He closed his eyes, trying to sleep, but his dreams were filled with nightmarish figures and a cold, eerie laugh.

* * *

In the morning, Draco managed to haul himself out of bed. He changed into his robes, smirking at himself in the mirror. "You look very nice today, Mr. Malfoy," commented the mirror.

"Of course I do." He ran a hand through his slick hair and headed out of the room.

After a good breakfast, Professor Snape walked around, handing out their schedules. It look a bit longer than usual, as he confirmed that everyone had achieved the necessary OWLs to continue with their chosen NEWTs.

He reached Draco and glanced over his sheet. "Well done, Mr. Malfoy," he said. "I see you've chosen Potions, Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, and several other good classes. Though it will be time consuming, so I suggest you prepare." There was something in Snape's eyes as he looked at Draco, who frowned slightly. _What's he up to?_ Draco knew that Snape wouldn't be able to penetrate his mind, even if he wanted to. Draco was too good at Occlumency.

He took his schedule and waited until the rest of them were finished. "Looks like there's only four of us in Potions this year," said Nott.

"I'm not surprised. Professor Snape knows who the good ones are," smirked Draco.

"I have free periods!" exclaimed Crabbe excitedly.

Draco rolled his eyes, knowing what Crabbe was going to be doing. He and Goyle would most likely be stuffing their faces or reading comics. Draco, however, had more important issues to take care of.

Pansy snatched Draco's schedule out of his hands and let out an unhappy sigh. "None of our classes match up!"

Draco took his schedule back. "So? I don't have time to be distracted, Pansy. Sixth year isn't as easy as you think."

"But look at all our free time. We'll have plenty of time to do whatever we want," said Pansy.

"If you say so."

Draco stood, glancing at Nott. "We've got Ancient Runes in fifteen minutes. We'd better get going."

Nott nodded and headed towards the exit. Draco glanced back at the others and looked to Crabbe and Goyle. "Meet me in the common room at five o'clock," he said. They nodded and he headed out after Nott.

Defense Against the Dark Arts came quickly and for that, Draco was grateful. During Runes, he had made sure that he was sitting as far away from the Mudblood as possible. _Why is she in everything I take,_ he thought, disgusted.

As they entered the DADA classroom, Draco was pleased to see Professor Snape standing by the door _Finally, a good DADA class._ Curtains had been drawn over the windows and candles lit the room. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion, I am surprised so many of you scraped an OWL in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the NEWT work, which will be much more advanced."

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice. Draco watched him, smirking slightly. _This is not going to be hard. For once, it'll actually be interesting,_ he thought. _Besides, with Professor Snape as the teacher, I'll pass this easily. Then I can spend more time worrying about that blasted cabinet._

"The Dark Arts," continued Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

_That's why the Dark Arts are the way to go,_ thought Draco. _It's the only way to get done what we need to get done…even if people get hurt in the process. Even if I'm scared and the Dark Arts aren't exactly what I'd use every day, it's my only choice. I can't be afraid to use them and I have to know how to defend against them if I'm going to live and protect my family._

"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder," must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse -" Draco glanced at the picture and quickly adverted his eyes. He swallowed, remembering all too well the intense pain he had suffered at the hand of the Dark Lord when he had received his Mark. " – feel the Dementor's Kiss or provoke the aggression of the Inferius."

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" asked one of the Patil twins in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

Draco glanced at her and then moved his attention back to Snape.

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now," he said, moving back towards his desk. "…you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Draco wasn't surprised to see Granger's hand waving around in the air and Snape looked displeased to see that her's was the only one. He finally said, curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Granger, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six,_" said Snape, dismissively.

Draco sniggered along with Nott. "She won't get too far in this class," he muttered to Nott. "Thinks she knows everything, that one does."

"All she knows how to do is memorize," smirked Nott. "That won't help her when," he stopped, with a shrug. Draco knew what he meant, though he hadn't told Nott everything that would happen.

" – spell-casting," Snape was saying. "Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack. You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other _without speaking_. The other will attempt to repel the jinx _in equal silence._ Carry on."

Draco and Nott stood, facing each other. Draco furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating, trying to use a basic levitating charm on Nott. Nott's face was drawn into concentration as well.

"Relax, Mr. Malfoy, it comes in time," said Snape as he passed by them.

"Yes, Professor." Draco tried to concentrate, but his thoughts kept going back to the cabinet. He had to start soon, that night if he could. The Dark Lord wasn't going to wait forever.

As a result of his lack of concentration, Nott managed to hit him with a curse that made him stagger back. Draco glared and Nott grinned. "I did it, didn't I?"

"You cheated."

"How do you know?"

"Because, not even Granger has managed to do it yet. So it's doubtful you can do it."

"Are you comparing me to that Mudblood?" asked Nott, arching an eyebrow.

Draco just glared back coolly and tried to think his curse. In the end, he muttered it quietly, using _Rictusempra_ and causing Nott to fall to the floor, laughing.

Through tears in his eyes, Nott managed to use the countercurse, climbing to his feet. Draco glanced over at Potter and Weasley, who didn't seem to be having any luck. Draco snickered. "Seems even the Chosen One can't do a simple spell."

Nott snickered as well and they watched as Snape moved over towards the pair. "Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape. "Here – let me show you –"

Snape turned his wand to Potter, who shouted, "_Protego!"_ Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. Draco stared, his eyes wide, watching as Snape righted himself, scowling.

"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing _nonverbal_ spells, Potter?"

"Yes," said Potter.

"Yes, _sir._"

"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."

Draco heard several people gasp around him but he merely arched an eyebrow. _Who did Potter think he was? Talking back to Professor Snape…he's such an idiot. _

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. Draco and Nott glanced each other, smirking. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter…not even _'the Chosen One."_

The rest of the class passed quickly and Draco and Nott headed out for their break. By the time Draco and Nott headed towards Potions, they were already loaded with homework.

"This is ridiculous," complained Nott. "We've got more homework in a few hours then we got in weeks during fifth year."

"They're advanced classes, Nott, what did you expect?" said Draco.

"Well it's still the first day."

"That doesn't make any difference to the professors, you should know that."

He and Nott entered the Potions classroom and took their seats beside Creighton and Wallingsworth. "So are you staying on the Quidditch team this year?" Creighton asked.

Draco shrugged. "I don't think I'll have time for it. Besides, there's plenty of others. So long as we beat Gryffindor, it doesn't matter."

He glanced around the dungeon, noting the strange vapors and smells. The dungeon door opened and he watched as a group of Ravenclaws and Macmillan entered, followed soon after by the Trio.

Slughorn wasn't far behind, his belly preceding him through the door. Draco looked around at the various potions on the tables and his gaze landed on the Polyjuice Potion. He glanced at Nott knowingly, who nodded slightly.

"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn. "Scales out, everyone, and potions kits, and don't forget your copies of _Advanced Potion-Making_…"

"Sir?" Draco looked to see Potter raising his hand.

"Harry, m'boy?"

"I haven't got a book or scales or anything – nor's Ron – we didn't realize we'd be able to do the NEWT, you see –"

"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention…not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts…"

Slughorn strode over to the corner cupboard, retrieving two worn copies of the book along with two sets of scales. After handing them to Potter and Weasley, he moved back to the front of the class.

Draco glared slightly over at the Trio. He had expected Granger to make it, but why did Potter and Weasley get in? Surely they hadn't made the necessary grades, not with Snape as the Professor. _But of course, _the Chosen One_ gets everything._

"Now then," said Slughorn. "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your NEWTs. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He motioned to the cauldron nearest to them, which Draco recognized as Truth Serum.

Granger, of course, had to raise her hand and say, "It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing to the cauldron nearest to the Ravenclaws, "this one here is pretty well known…Features in a few Ministry leaflets lately too…Who can –"

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir," said Granger.

"Excellent, excellent! Now this one here…yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, looking slightly bemused at Granger.

"It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!"

_Bloody know-it-all,_ thought Draco with a scowl. _I know all these too, but like we'd have a chance to answer with her big mouth flapping away._

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals, and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and –" She turned slightly pink and the Slytherins snickered.

"May I ask your name, my dear?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

Draco leaned close to Nott, whispering, "Granger can wish all she wants to be related to such a famous person. In her dreams, perhaps." They both sniggered.

"Oho!" exclaimed Slughorn. "'_One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!'_ I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," answered Potter.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

Draco stared, shocked and then scowled. _Twenty points? How did she earn those? Who cares that she's Potter's friend. It looks like my father was wrong about this professor, he's completely mental._

"Amortentia doesn't really create _love,_ of course," said Slughorn. "It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room –" Draco and Nott just smirked skeptically. _Right. How dangerous can that be,_ thought Draco. Slughorn nodded towards Draco. "When you have seen as much life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love…and now, it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron on Slughorn's desk. The potion insid was the color of molten gold and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface.

"Oho," said Slughorn. "Yes. That. Well, _that_ one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Granger, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"

"It's liquid luck," said Granger. "It makes you lucky!"

At this, Draco sat up in his seat. _If I could get my hands on that potion…I could get that cabinet fixed within a day!_

"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis. Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all you endeavors tend to succeed…at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry Boot eagerly.

"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence. Too much of a good thing, you know…highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly and very occasionally…"

"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.

"Twice in my life. Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoons taken with breakfast. Two perfect days." He gazed dreamily into the distance. "And that," he said finally, snapping out of his daze, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

Draco stared, his eyes widening slightly. _I've got to get that potion!_

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a miniscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn til dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organized competitions…sporting events, for instance, examinations, or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only…and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!

"So, how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of _Advanced Potion-Making._ We have a little over an hour left to use, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

Draco immediately pulled out his Potions equipment and supplies. He began rifling through his book, moving to the page. He scanned the page, seeing what he needed and got it quickly. _I have to. I have to get this,_ he thought desperately. _If I don't get that cabinet fixed…_ He didn't even want to think about what would happen.

He poured the contents of one bottle into his cauldron and then took out his valerian roots. He began chopping them up quickly, dumping them into his cauldron. He stirred the mixture, watching as bluish steam erupted from his cauldron. Slughorn passed by them and Draco looked up.

"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"

"Yes," said Slughorn, without looking at Draco. "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course, it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age…"

Draco glared as Slughorn walked away, moving to the Ravenclaw table. _Old fool. Doesn't he know who I am?_ He began to cut at his sopophorous bean with a vengeance, trying to get the juice from it. Finally, he got enough to put into his cauldron and checked the directions, stirring it how the book instructed. He glanced at the others but didn't say anything. He had to get this…he had to.

Draco feverishly moved through the rest of the potion, trying to finish as quickly as possible.

"And time's…up!" said Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!"

Draco groaned, sitting back and glaring at his cauldron. The potion wasn't pale enough and he could only hope that none of the others had any luck. Slughorn inspected the potions and when he saw Potter's, he looked delighted.

"The clear winner!" he cried. Draco just groaned, putting his face in his hands. _Bloody hell!_ "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was. Here you are, then, here you are – one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"

Draco, along with the other Slytherins, glared at Potter furiously. He muttered curses under his breath. _Damn Potter! _He glanced over at Nott and jerked his head very slightly towards the Polyjuice Potion.

Nott barely nodded and they got up to leave. Slughorn's was chatting with two of the Ravenclaws and Draco made his way towards the door along with Creighton and Wallingsworth.

He heard Potter say, "Got lucky, I suppose," which only made him more furious. He stormed out of the room, heading for the common room.

Once he was back in his dormitory and alone, he threw his books at his bed angrily. "Bloody hell!" he cursed. "Now what?" He clenched his fists and began to pace. He only looked up when Nott came in. "Did you get it?"

Nott smirked, holding up the bottle filled with the dark Polyjuice Potion.

His current anger forgotten, Draco moved quickly towards the potion. "Brilliant. After dinner, we'll start."


End file.
